


Is There Somewhere?

by SerendipityDreamer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Friends to Lovers, One Night Stands, Vaginal Sex, how the fuck do i tag this shit, im kinkshaming myself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipityDreamer/pseuds/SerendipityDreamer
Summary: Varric isn't good at feelings, and he doesn't want them either. The Inquisitor just wants someone to warm her bed for the night. This seems like the perfect recipe for an entirely unattached one night stand."Seems like" is the key phrase.





	

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ho, kiddos. I'm an adult now and I told myself that I was going to get serious about my fanfiction writing, and my brain spat out this adult rated content. I'm also the deepest hoe for Varric Tethras and there isn't enough fic with him and Inquisitor, so this is my gift to the world. This takes place after Here Lies The Abyss in which Stroud is saved. Analyze that spoiler as you will.
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism are welcome!
> 
> Peep my quizzie, Briane! 
> 
> https://gaming-gael.tumblr.com/post/147775437422/im-doing-the-dragon-age-thing-and-im-sinfully

All of his ~~worst~~ best decisions start with alcohol.

Varric has never been good at drinking alone. There's something undeniably sad about drinking through an entire bottle of rum on your own, even if it is over the course of a few hours. So rather than sit on his bench in the Great Hall nursing a bottle of rum with no one else around, a habit he developed after losing Hawke at the Adamant Fortress, Varric sits on a bench in the Herald’s Rest and nurses a bottle of rum while surrounded by others drinking their worries away.

He's still sitting alone technically, but he doesn't _feel_ alone. That makes all the difference.

The tavern is full of people tonight. Not that it’s ever truly empty, but tonight just happens to be busier than usual. The Chargers are running a game of strip Wicked Grace (Varric’s almost certain that the Iron Bull isn’t wearing pants), a few mages are looking properly pissed from whatever is filling their tankards, and Sera is bouncing from table to table taking shots off anyone who’s willing to buy her a drink.

It’s bright and noisy and thoroughly enjoyable to watch. This is the heart of the Inquisition, good people who want to carve out a good time in the middle of hell on Earth. It might not be the noble cause that the rest of Thedas knows, but it’s a noble one nevertheless.

_Hawke would have loved this._

Varric smiles to himself at the thought and drinks from the expensive bottle he had convinced Cabot to give him in exchange for a good bit of coin, watching as the tavern blazes with life around him. It’s warmer than his fire in the Great Hall, certainly, and Varric is starting to weigh the options of coming here more often when he feels someone settle down onto the bench next to him.

“Do you mind? I hate drinking alone.”

Varric chuckles and turns his head to see the Inquisitor sitting next to him, a smile on her face and a tankard in her hand. “Feel free to send me away,” she continues, taking a drink from her tankard and gently nudging him with her elbow, “I don’t want to impose if you’re set on drinking alone tonight.”

“There’s no such thing as drinking alone in a tavern,” Varric muses, arm sweeping out and gesturing towards everyone in the tavern, “You’re always surrounded by people and the very loud drunken noise they make.”

“So I’m just a member of the masses,” the Inquisitor replies with a soft hum, reaching up to push her fingers through her short blonde hair, “And here I thought I was special, leader of the Inquisition and all.”

Varric laughs and earns a wide smile from the elf next to him, who tips her head to the side and manages to look cheeky of all things. “You’re far from normal, Inquisitor,” Varric says, shaking his head, “I mean, have you looked at your hand?”

The Inquisitor snorts and takes another drink from her tankard, “I’ve spent plenty of nights staring at my mildly terrifying green mark, thank you very much.” She pauses then, and Varric is concerned that he’s offended her, but her voice cuts off the apology that’s starting to form in his mouth. “You can call me Briane,” she says, voice soft, “ _Inquisitor_...everyone calls me that. I miss people just calling me Briane.”

“Briane,” Varric echos, letting the name roll of his tongue, “It’s a nice name. People should call you that more often.”

The Inquisitor huffs a laugh, and Varric can hear the sadness at the end of it. He studies her then and sees the faraway look in her eyes and how she’s gripping her tankard a little more tightly than before. “It’s just odd is all,” she says, voice low so that her emotions don’t betray her, “I went from my clan where everyone knows my name, and now everyone just knows me by little else but my title.”

The Inquisitor’s jaw tenses as she knocks back the rest of her tankard. She sighs as she finishes off the last of her drink, and Varric can only watch as she gets up with a mutter of needing something stronger.

Varric frowns as he watches Briane walk away, recognizing the weight in her steps immediately. It’s the weight of lives lost and the living on that sit on your shoulders; it’s the burden of a life left behind and of an unforgiving future; it’s the nagging questions of ‘what ifs’ that eat away at your mind until you drink away the feeling.

Varric turns away and takes a long pull from his bottle of rum. He’s spent too many nights drinking those kind of worries away, he’s just recovered from a binge of nights spent drinking like that, and his heart goes out to the Inquisitor. He wishes he could take her place, because she doesn’t deserve that kind of heavy shit when she’s still so young.

When Briane returns, she sits with a huff before taking a long drink from her tankard. The pair settles into silence, watching as Sera tries to climb on the Iron Bull’s shoulders and a shirtless Rocky tries to pull her off of him.

“I jus’ wanna ride the bloody bull!” Sera whines, scowling and planting her foot firmly on the face of the dwarf trying to pull her down, “I ‘eard he gives rides for free. Can’t I ‘ave any fun?”

The Inquisitor chuckles softly, shaking her head as she continues to nurse her drink, “I’m not sure if she fully realizes what ‘riding the bull’ means. And I’m not sure if I want to be the one who tells her.”

“Sera doesn’t make sense half of the time, but she usually knows what she’s saying,” Varric muses, glancing sideways at the Inquisitor, “And how do you know what it means to ‘ride the bull’? Has our dear Inquisitor been inviting a Qunari lover to her bed?”

“Creators, no!” Briane blurts, shaking her head immediately, and Varric doesn’t miss the blush that’s creeping onto her face, “I don’t think I’m exactly built for that kind of...love-making.”

Varric chuckles and takes a sip of his rum, “I don’t think what Bull does is exactly defined as ‘love-making,’ but to each their own.” He smirks as the Inquisitor’s blush deepens, and the liquid courage coursing through his veins has him teasing her a bit more than he normally would, “So, what kind of love-making are you built for then? I’m sure the Orlesians would love to know who you’re bringing to your bed.”

Briane sighs and knocks back her tankard, taking a long drink and hiding her flushed face at the same time. When she shows her face again, she’s a bit less pink, but Varric can see her pupils are a bit more dilated than before. “My bed is disappointingly empty,” she replies, trying to sound haughty through her embarrassment, “Sorry if that disappoints you.”

“I’m more disappointed _for_ you,” Varric quips, and he tips back the rest of his bottle of rum. He sets it down on the bench next to him and hums softly as he feels the pleasant buzz of drunkenness settling in his head. “With all the work you do, you deserve a good lay,” Varric continues, smirking as he studies the Inquisitor’s face. Her jaw has a rather pleasant curve to it that he really hadn’t noticed before, and he’s sure it would fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

“There’s not exactly much time for me to be vetting potential lovers,” Briane mutters, her brow furrowing in frustration as she focuses her gaze on Sera finally being dragged off the Iron Bull’s shoulders, “And I’m not exactly keen on having a one night stand with a complete stranger.”

Varric hums in response and drags his eyes away from the Inquisitor’s face, because there’s a warm knot of something he hasn’t felt in awhile coiling in his stomach. He instead watches the drama ensuing across the tavern as Sera scrambles away from Rocky, but not before tugging down his breeches in spiteful defiance. Varric chuckles at the sight of the dwarf attempting to chase down the blonde elf, and Varric turns to look at the other blonde elf at his side.

It has to be a combination of the rum in his system and the oddly intimate nature of their current conversation. That’s how Varric explains that warm knot in his stomach. That’s why the Inquisitor looks so damn kissable in this light, and why he wants to run his fingers along her jaw. This is an anomaly really, because Briane is the _Inquisitor_ , for Andraste’s sake, and Varric doesn’t get into situations like this very often. But now that he’s here, he’s not sure he wants it to end. “Well, you could always have a one night stand with someone you actually know,” Varric muses softly, shrugging slightly and turning away, “Don’t know what your standards are on that.”

A brief silence follows his statement, and Varric is afraid he’s offended her. For all he knows, he’s crossed some sort of terrible moral boundary with the Inquisitor. But when Briane turns to look at him, there’s a playful smirk on her lips. He turns and sees a renewed flush on her cheeks, her pupils blown dark and wide, and he has a decent idea of where this night could go.

“I can think of one person I might like to share that sort of night with,” she murmurs, her voice light and rumbling all at once. He knows what she’s implying, but she’s kept her tone light enough that he can say no if he wants to. Nevertheless, Varric feels desire tug on that familiar knot in the pit of his stomach, and he licks his lips in response.

Maker, it's been a _long_ while since he's felt that.

“Yeah?” Varric asks as he rises slowly to his feet, eyes never leaving hers, “Well, that person might not be opposed to such an offer.” It’s a bold move, one mostly driven by alcohol, but all of his best decisions start with alcohol. It’s probably a statistic at this point.

Briane’s tongue darts out between her lips as she smirks wickedly, her eyes bright as she too rises from her seat. “I hope that person knows the way to my room,” she breathes, her voice low as she slips past him, her hand ghosting over his shoulder. Varric does his best not to shiver at the touch.

Varric smirks and grabs Briane’s wrist, and as she turns to look at him, he’s proud of the look of surprise on her face. “My room is closer,” Varric muses, and even he’s surprised at his boldness in this brief and sudden flirtation. It's the most direct he's been about his own desires in a long time, but dammit if this isn’t the best he’s felt in awhile. This is the most he’s ever wanted someone in years.

And if Andraste doesn’t strike him down first, maybe she’ll actually let him be happy about this one.

“Lead the way then,” Briane replies with put upon sweetness, smirking as Varric holds onto her wrist and leads her out of the tavern and back towards Skyhold’s main tower.

Varric doesn’t think about the consequences in that moment, and he refuses to let the cold night air sober him up. He just thinks about how the Inquisitor’s wrist feels so small in his hand, so he shifts his grip so that his fingers are intertwining with hers. He thinks about how her giggle makes him feel drunk on something other than rum. He thinks about having and holding and silencing the nagging of ‘what ifs’ that have eaten away at his mind ever since Hawke died.

Varric has done enough worrying to last him a lifetime. He might as well enjoy himself for one night.

 

* * *

 

Nighttime in Skyhold is dark and quiet. The whistle of the wind is the only sound that can be heard, and even then it's a low and deep noise, and it blends in with the sound of silence that permeates the air. It fills the cracks in the stone of the towering fortress, and it echoes in the wooden frames and floorboards that fill the structure. It’s an odd sort of silence that can be loud all on its own.

A hitched breath pierces the air and echoes through the hall, followed by the creaking of a heavy wooden door swinging open before being closed by the weight of a body against it.

“Varric,” Briane breathes, laughing softly as she feels the dwarf’s hands unbuttoning her vest, “It’s pitch dark in here. We-”

“I don’t know about you,” Varric interrupts, a devilish smirk growing on his lips as he unbuttons the Inquisitor’s vest, “but I can manage just fine in the dark.”

Briane sighs, and Varric can barely see her rolling her eyes as she lets her vest fall off of her shoulders. Never one to disappoint a woman, Varric hitches the elf’s legs around his waist, earning a gasp and a pair of slim arms around his head as she plummets due to the height difference.

Varric chuckles deeply as Briane’s breasts are nestled beneath his chin and he hears her swearing softly as he carries her over and drops her down onto the bed.

“Did you really have to do that?” she asks breathlessly, a blush forming high on her cheeks as she watches Varric pull of her boots.

Varric sets the boots onto the ground and shrugs as he climbs onto the bed. He straddles Briane’s lithe form and smirks as he sees her blush deepen. “It tends to get a pretty good reaction from the ladies,” he replies, his hands carefully lifting her scarf over her head and setting it aside before he starts tugging at her gloves.

Moonlight casts its pale gaze over his bed, and Varric studies the Inquisitor’s face beneath him. Her lips are full and parted, her breathing is heavy and her eyes are dark, but they're like looking into a glass mirror. Varric can still make out the unmistakable blue of her eyes, but he can see everything else too, and he wonders what exactly she's seeing when she looks at him.

She’s beautiful, he thinks, and desire is pooling in his stomach and making itself rather known against his breeches.

“Maker, look at you,” Varric mutters, surprised to hear his own voice in the darkness, and it's returned with a soft giggle from the elf beneath him.

“Do I have you speechless?” she teases, and Varric wants so desperately to say yes. But then he’d be saying yes to a lot of other things, things he really isn’t ready to acknowledge just yet.

His silence, however, speaks volumes, and Briane smiles and wriggles out from underneath Varric’s hips. She sits up and cups his face with one hand, her other hand sliding down and cupping his hardness through his breeches, “Hello? Have I lost you?”

Varric’s groans as Briane’s hand squeezes around him, and suddenly his mouth is pressing greedily against hers, because dammit he needs to take control of the situation again.

The elf hums pleasantly against him, her mouth opening as his tongue traces the curve of her lip. Varric has never really been a proper kisser, at least not in the way that’s considered respectful. No, he’s better at this, tongues and heat and fingers tangled in hair. He feels the Inquisitor pull the band out of his hair and the reddish locks fall down onto his shoulders. Varric chuckles against her lips and runs his hands down her sides, “You know, I can’t exactly do the same thing to you.”

Briane laughs and tightens her fingers in Varric’s hair, her smile teasing as her other hand settles on his chest and tangles itself in the hair there. “I’ve never seen this much hair on anyone before,” she muses, tipping her head upwards and exposing the line of her neck, “Elvhen men don’t have much else besides what’s on their heads.”

“Well, I’ll either be a pleasant change of pace or a terrifying beast,” Varric replies, and he silences the Inquisitor’s laughter by grazing her neck with his teeth, his lips locking onto her pulse. Her breath hitches and Varric closes his eyes, his hands moving efficiently to unbutton her shirt.

His erection is pressing rather firmly against Briane’s stomach and, by the Maker, he hasn’t been this hard in a long time.

“Varric,” she gasps, and it sounds terribly close to a prayer as he pulls her shirt off of her body and tosses it away from them.

Varric ignores the ache in his chest and focuses instead on the ache in his pants. He pulls the elf up and he’s straddling her as she sits up, her arms braced behind her. Varric keeps his face buried in the Inquisitor’s neck, careful not to leave any marks on her neck that might catch the attention of wayward gossipers. He runs his hands up her bare sides, relishing in the softness of her as his fingers bump against her breast band.

“Your hands feel like parchment,” Briane whispers, a shiver running down her spine as his fingers brush against her, “It suits you, I think.”

Varric smirks and grazes his teeth along her pulse once more. His fingers tug briefly on the clasp of her breast band, and he sighs softly as it gives and falls away from her. “And you're softer than the fur on a fennec,” he muses, voice low as he dips his head down to press kisses to the curve of her breasts, “Can't decide if it suits you or not.”

Briane laughs then, and Varric smirks as her chest shakes with the force of it. He’s getting a face full of tits, so he won’t complain, but he doesn’t need to. Briane’s laugh is musical, like a song sung on a rainy day, wistful and charming all at once. “Are you trying to imply that I’m not some fair maiden?” She asks, her tone teasing but her voice soft as she watches his head move farther down.

“That is exactly what I’m implying,” Varric mutters, and his eyes flick up to hers briefly before he closes his mouth around one pert nipple, suckling softly.

“Creators,” Briane gasps, and Varric hums softly as he feels her fingers tighten in his hair once more. Apparently she’s got a thing for his hair, not that he’s opposed to it. It’s pretty nice, actually, and Bianca had never done that before.

Varric grazes his teeth against her nipple, and he’s rewarded with another firm tug of his hair. “Do that again,” she rasps, her back arching and her fingers digging into his scalp, “Please.”

No, she definitely isn't like Bianca.

Eager to serve, Varric shifts and presses a kiss to her other nipple before nipping at it, earning an even sharper gasp from the elf. It’s a wonderful sound, but if sucking on her nipples has her sounding like this, how much better will she sound when they get farther along?

Varric groans at the thought, his mouth releasing Briane’s nipple and pressing tender kisses down the line of her stomach. She’s lithe, but fit, her muscles well-defined as his lips trace the lines of her abs. There’s not much time for words in a moment like this, but his actions are speaking loudly enough for him.

“You’re certainly focused,” Briane muses, one hand still tangled in his hair as the other moves to cup one of her breasts, rolling her nipple between her fingers. She lifts her hips as Varric’s hands tug her breeches down.

“A man on a mission,” Varric mumbles in response, pulling the Inquisitor’s breeches off and tossing them away. Her knickers follow suit rather quickly, and Varric is welcomed to the sight of a frankly gorgeous cunt.

She’s trimmed it, which doesn’t really surprise him. The hair is still blonde, but decidedly darker than the golden mop atop her head. Her lips are pink and he can see how wet she is, and Varric is struck with the urge to taste her.

So he does.

Briane’s hand tightens so in his hair that he’s seeing stars for a minute, his tongue dipping past her folds and tasting licorice of all things, and as he lifts his head he flicks his tongue against her clit.

“You’re a tease,” she manages to say, and Varric can’t help but smile. He’s barely done anything yet, and she looks absolutely wrecked.

“Do you want me to stop?” Varric asks, grinning cheekily and pulling away, “Say the word, and I will.”

But Briane doesn’t say anything. Instead, she falls onto her back, spreads her legs further apart, and pushes Varric’s head back in the general direction of her pussy.

Well, that’s a ‘yes’ if he ever saw one.

Varric shifts down the bed so that he’s lying on his stomach before he buries his face between the Inquisitor’s legs once more. The weight of her fingers still sits in his hair, and his scalp is tingling with the force of her grip, but it’s a wonderful buzz that only causes desire to burn brighter in his gut.

And just like that, he’s tasting her again, the flat of his tongue licking a broad stripe up the length of her pussy before he dips past her lips once more. He suckles lightly at folds before he starts teasing her clit, tracing the alphabet with his tongue, writing stories as her moans fill his ears. One hand holds her thigh and spreads her open as he sucks firmly on her clit, and she’s trembling so wonderfully against him that he can’t just leave her wanting like this. So with Briane’s hand practically pulling his hair out, Varric shifts to one side and presses a finger into her wet heat, and the sound she makes is absolutely ridiculous.

It sounds like a nug squealing when you get too close to it, or a fennec yipping as it gets its tail caught on a branch, but Varric feels her tensing around his finger and vibrating against his mouth, and she’s coming without making a single sound.

Varric’s tongue continues to tease at Briane’s clit as her orgasm vibrates through her, and he doesn’t stop until he feels her hand pulling him away from her cunt. Carefully, he slides his finger out and sucks it into his mouth. It has no right tasting like licorice, but he’ll savor it anyhow. Varric lets his finger fall from his mouth with a soft pop, grinning as he meets Briane’s gaze, “You’re not very good with words when you’re in the middle of sex.”

“Oh, shut it,” she replies, but there’s no viciousness in her voice because she’s breathless. Varric’s chest puffs with pride, because he’s the one that did this, has the Inquisitor all hot and bothered and uncharacteristically breathless because he’s just that good. “Don’t look so cheeky,” she mutters as she sees the satisfaction on his face and her fingers slip out of his hair, “We’re hardly finished here, so you haven’t won yet.”

“I didn’t know we were playing a game, Briane,” Varric muses, cocking his head to the side and crossing his arms in front of his chest, “But I’ve got to say, I think I have a pretty good lead at this point.”

Briane laughs and pushes herself up onto her elbows, and despite looking thoroughly fucked, Varric is still terrified of what she might do. “Call it a metaphor,” she muses, sitting up fully and scooting herself closer to the dwarf, “Now, take off your ridiculous tunic so I’m not the only one completely naked.”

Varric doesn't have much time to protest before the Inquisitor’s fingers are tugging as the sash around his waist and tossing it aside so she can undo the gold clasps on his red tunic. He can barely see Briane’s fingers moving against his shirt, but as his eyes glance upwards to look at hers, he's struck once more by the haunting way they reflect in the moonlight.

“You can see perfectly well, can't you?” Varric asks, a smirk on his lips as Briane finishes her work on his tunic and pushes the familiar fabric off of his shoulders.

He sees her smile in the dark and feels her hands smooth across his chest, her palms warm as her fingers brush through his hair. “Elves often hunt at night,” she replies, her eyes breaking their concentration on Varric’s chest so she can meet his gaze, “I'm able to spot fennecs and hallas and bears on the darkest of nights, even if I'm perched high up in a tree. It's a skill that's very good to keep as a secret.”

Varric chuckles softly and Briane laughs with him, her hands moving down his chest and caressing his stomach, no longer as flat or as fit as it had been in his youth. “I always knew you were fucking terrifying,” Varric muses, and he flinches as the Inquisitor’s fingers press against a sensitive part of his stomach near his hip.

“You're a smart man,” Briane hums, and the smile on her face grows wicked as she feels the dwarf flinch beneath her touch, “Varric Tethras, vagabond rogue and illustrious author, are you ticklish?”

“Of course not,” Varric replies, a little too quickly and a bit too tersely, “I've never been ticklish. I don't even know the meaning of the word.” But then Briane’s fingers are ghosting feather-light touches against his stomach so that his gut flutters as a shaky huff of air escapes him, and dammit it _does_ tickle.

Briane’s smile grows impossibly wider, and Varric’s heart skips a beat with genuine fear. There’s no time to protest before the Inquisitor’s fingers are teasing the slightly rounded curve of his stomach, and the sound coming out of his mouth is like a dying windbag.

“You are ticklish!” Briane cries, laughing giddily as Varric continues to make pitiful sounds beneath her. She manages to get the dwarf onto his back, and her fingers moving mercilessly against him. Varric is almost certain death would be a better fate than this.

After a few moments of seemingly unending torture, Briane lifts her hands from Varric’s stomach and instead places them firmly on the mattress on either side of his head. “Don’t _ever_ do that again,” Varric manages to hiss, but he’s still recovering from the unexpected assault on his body. Plus, Briane is still sitting naked on top of him. If her breasts weren’t dangling in front of his face, Varric’s sure his hissing might have held a bit more venom.

“Your secret is safe with me, Varric,” Briane muses, smiling as she sinks down so her breasts are pressing against his chest, “Besides, there are still much grander things we have to get on to.”

If his erection had died off at all during all the tickling, Varric knows now that he's rock hard again. Because, _Andraste’s tits_ , the Inquisitor is fucking purring as she shits up and rolls her hips against him, running her pussy up the length of cock through his breeches.

“By the fucking Maker,” Varric groans, his hands coming up to hold the Inquisitor’s hips as she continues to roll her hips slowly against him, “You’re a bit too good at this.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment” Briane hums softly, cocking her head to the side as she smiles warmly. Varric’s heart skips a beat again, and it’s not because he’s being held down and tickled against his will. This time it’s because Briane’s smile is so genuine and her hair is falling loose and hanging in front of her face. Varric can’t help but remember a different time and a different place, with a different woman straddling his hips and teasing him and making him fall just a little bit in love. Maybe even more than a little bit.

Well, there’s a reason he gave his crossbow _that_ name.

Varric watches in silence as Briane slowly moves down his body, carefully tugging off his boots and setting them down beside the bed before she begins at the ties of his breeches. “You’re sure about this?” Briane asks, and Varric is struck by the genuine concern in her voice as her fingers hesitate for a moment.

“There’s plenty of things I’ve been less sure of,” Varric replies, grinning and propping himself up on his elbows, “But you? I’ve been sure about you since the first day I met you. Closing a rift is a pretty grand introduction.”

Briane chuckles softly, her eyes closing and a blush creeping up onto her cheeks. It’s a tender moment, one that if he weren’t running on the buzz of alcohol, would have him absolutely terrified. But Varric is just the right amount of drunk to not be honest with himself and to be mostly absolutely honest with other people.

When Briane opens her eyes again, she looks like there’s a thousand things she wants to say but can’t find the words for, so instead she starts moving her fingers and finishes untying Varric’s breeches, pulling them down and pushing them aside before she stares down at his cock straining against his smallclothes.

“Creators,” she whispers, biting her lower lip as she traces her fingers against the outline of his length. She’s a tease, Varric thinks as his hips buck upwards involuntarily. If the sparkle in her eyes is anything to go by, then she’s certainly enjoying herself.

“Are you just going to stare at it all night?” Varric asks, smiling to himself as the Inquisitor’s eyes refuse to leave his crotch, “I mean, it’s flattering and all, but there’s better things we could be doing.”

“Of course,” Briane hums softly, her eyes flicking up to meet Varric’s briefly as her slim fingers dip beneath the waistband of his smallclothes before lifting them from his waist and pulling them down his thighs.

Varric’s cock springs free and stands hard and proud against his stomach. His breath hitches because _Maker_ , he hadn't realized how hard he was in the confines of his clothing. He hears a quiet laugh come for the elf between his legs. “Is there something interesting going on down there?” Varric asks teasingly, his eyes focusing on Briane’s smile on the dark.

“You're always interesting, Varric,” Briane muses, licking her lips as she wraps her hand around the base and tapping the head of his cock against her cheek. “But this? This is a surprise.”

“Shit,” Varric breathes, licking his own lips as his fingers tangle into the sheets beneath him. He can see a smear of precum glistening against her cheek, and that has no right being attractive; it's literally just his cock pressed against her cheek, but it's the most erotic thing he's seen in a long time.

Briane rolls her eyes and shifts away, licking the palm of her band before she starts stroking Varric’s cock, “You know I've done that probably a dozen times, and it drives every man wild in the same way. It makes no sense whatsoever.”

Varric hums and lays down on his back, his eyes slipping closed as he focuses on Briane’s hand around him, “If I could explain it, Briane, I would. But men are unexplainable creatures.”

“Unexplainable creatures, my arse,” Briane muses, resting her head on Varric’s thigh as her hand moves slowly up and down his cock. She purses her lips for a moment in thought before she speaks again, “I appreciate you using my name, by the way. It means a lot.”

Varric hums softly and pushes himself back up onto his elbows, his hair loose and framing his face, “Yeah, well, I meant what I said back in the tavern. It's a nice name that people should say more often.”

A bashful smile plays at the corners of Briane’s lips as her reflective eyes glance up to meet Varric’s eyes in the darkness. Varric can see the teasing in her eyes, words unspoken and thoughts unbidden, but nothing is spoken as she picks up her head and licks a broad stripe up the length of Varric’s cock.

“Maker’s balls,” Varric hisses, falling down onto his back as a long groan escapes him. Briane’s tongue is warm and wet, and his mind is reeling at what her mouth will feel like around him.

He barely has time to process what’s happening before Briane hums softly and takes the head of his cock into her mouth, and Andraste smite him, her mouth is even better than he imagined.

Maker, what would the rest of her feel like?

Briane’s lips curl into a smile as she slowly takes more of Varric cock into her mouth. Her tongue is hot and firm against him, and she takes about half of him in before she pulls up again and swirls her tongue around the head. “You asked if there was something interesting going on down here,” Briane mused softly with a mischievous look in her eyes, “I think this qualifies.”

Varric doesn’t have the time or the mental capacity to respond, because his cock is in the Inquisitor’s mouth again and it just feels fantastic. He watches as Briane’s head bobs up and down at a steady pace, her hand holding him still as her cheeks hollow out with every upward pull. Varric swallows hard, keeping his hips down even as every urge in his body is telling him to thrust up into something so warm and tight, and he damn near loses it when Briane’s eyes flick upwards to look at him.

Her eyes are as blue as lyrium in the sunlight, like a sparkling ocean or even a damn blue jay. There’s a whimsy in her gaze that endears him, and Varric is grunting as he feels his balls tighten when the Inquisitor hums around his cock.

Shit, he didn’t even know he was close.

“Alright,” Varric croaks, reaching out with one hand and tangling his fingers in the elf’s short cropped hair. He gently pulls her off of his cock, and he sighs at the slick wet pop her mouth releases him with. “Can’t have me finishing before we get to the good stuff,” Varric continues, smirking and doing his best not to look ragged.

Briane laughs softly and crawls up over Varric’s body, straddling him with her legs and smiling down at him, “I suppose it would be a shame if we didn’t get to the best part. A bit embarrassing for you too.”

“Are you implying I’m an old man, Briane?” Varric says as he narrows his eyes, but he smiles nonetheless at her playfulness.

“You said it, not me,” Briane whispers in response, lowering her head towards his as her eyes slip closed.

Varric doesn’t realize what’s happened until there are soft, plump lips pressed against his own much less soft lips. The Inquisitor is kissing him, and her hands are cradling his neck, and Varric’s eyes are closing and he’s returning the kiss with a tenderness that surprises even him.

He doesn't do tender, he never has. And the one time he did, he got his heart dipped in shit and run over by a druffalo. So yeah, tender has never really worked for him. But the Inquisitor’s thumbs are tracing careful lines along his cheeks, and her lips are moving so gently against his, and Varric has a horrible lapse of sanity where he considers laying Briane on her back and having surprisingly steamy missionary sex that could fall under the category of making love.

But then he remembers why falling in love is a bad idea. And he shoves whatever emotion had bubbled out of his mind.

Varric tilts his head out of the kiss and he hears a whisper of a question fall from Briane’s lips before she gasps in surprise as she's rolled onto her back. Varric is straddling her hips now and his hands are placed firmly on the bed on either side of her head. He dips his head down low so that their foreheads are pressed together. “I would very much like to fuck you into the mattress,” Varric purrs, a wolfish grin on his face, and he sees Briane’s eyes light up with wonder and desire.

“I would very much like that,” Briane replies, smiling as she wriggles out from beneath Varric and sits on her knees in front of him, her hands reaching out to tangle briefly in his hair, “How do you want me then? I want you to have the best leverage for said mattress fucking.”

Varric chuckles and twists the Inquisitor around, moving her farther up the bed. “Hands and knees,” he hums, and he watches as the Inquisitor drops seamlessly into place, “I've got a feeling you've done this before.”

Briane looks over her shoulder and offers Varric a cheeky smile as she shifts from her hands to her elbows, her body sinking considerably, “Well, I've never done it on a proper bed, if that makes you feel any better. Sheets feel much better than grass and twigs.”

“I'm glad I can accommodate you with such luxury,” Varric muses, his hands smoothing over the Briane’s hips and gently pulling her back towards him. The tip of his cock is pressing gently against her entrance, and Varric takes a certain satisfaction in the quiet whine that comes from her mouth.

“ _Fenedhis_ , you're a tease,” Briane mutters, her head resting on the pillow in front of her, “Your initial offer of fuc-”

Varric doesn't hear the next word that comes out of Briane’s mouth because it’s cut off by a sharp hitch of her breath caused by the head of his cock pushing into her cunt. “Still a tease?” He asks, but Varric doesn't get a verbal answer. Instead, there's a hand reaching back that settles over his on her hip, and she arches her back so that his cock slips in just a little bit more deeply inside of her.

Okay, scratch the dick slapping against her cheek thing. _This_ is the most erotic thing that Varric has seen in a long time.

“Shit, Briane,” Varric groans, his jaw going slack as he pushes forward into the tight heat of her cunt. Briane lets out a high pitched whine and buries her face in the pillow, mumbling something that Varric can’t hear. He waits until he’s completely buried inside of her, his hips pressed against her, before he moves one hand gently over her spine and manages a gruffly low tone of voice, “What was that? I didn’t catch what you said.”

Briane whines, more softly this time, before she turns her head and rests her cheek on the pillow. Varric smirks as he sees the Inquisitor’s skin flushed pink, her red Vallaslin on her left eye blending in with her skin ever so slightly. “You’re so thick,” she pants, her eyes slipping closed and Varric can feel her pussy clenching around him, “And it feels _fantastic_.”

Varric’s moan melts into a richly deep chuckle, “Well shit, I’m flattered. Would you mind putting that in writing for my other conquests? I am known for exaggerating my skills, after all.” Briane laughs in response, and Varric’s grin only widens, because damn if her laugh isn’t charming.

“Let’s see how the rest of this goes,” Briane muses, her voice taking on a breathier pitch as she arches her back and presses against Varric’s hips, “Now please, if fucking me isn’t too much trouble.”

“With pleasure,” Varric replies, and he punctuates his sentence by pulling back and snapping his hips forward, earning a simultaneous moan from both parties.

Varric’s thrusts start off slow and deep, and he rests his forehead on Briane’s back as he loses himself to the pleasure of it. It’s been years since he’s had someone to be intimate with, and it’s much better than the comfort of his hand and the warmth of a pleasant memory. So Varric takes the time to appreciate the sensation of being able to share intimacy with another living being, but he reminds himself that this is just for one night.

But it will be one _hell_ of a night.

Each thrust results in a cacophony of sounds, skin slapping against skin and wet breathless pants, soft fabric rustling and the wooden bed frame creaking. In the quiet stillness of Skyhold, every sound is a roar, but the heat of the moment exists purely in itself.

Briane does her best to bury her moans into the pillows, because _Maker_ she’s loud. Varric huffs a laugh in between each grunt, because he seems like a stone statue compared to the elf beneath him. She’s moaning and arching her back into each thrust, her fingers clutching desperately onto anything, Varric catches a glimpse of her face in profile, her eyes twisted shut and her mouth hanging open, and all he can think of is that she’s beautiful.

“Shit, Briane,” Varric manages to grunt, and his hips stutter for a moment before he returns to his steady pace, hands firmly settled on Briane’s hips. She moans slightly higher in lieu of an answer that Varric doesn’t believe she’s coherently able to provide.

Varric can feel his release coiling itself in the pit of his stomach, and he angles his thrusts to drive himself just a bit deeper into Briane. He smirks as he hears her sharp gasp, followed by a string of broken Elvhen swears.

That’s when it all unravels. Briane grows still and Varric can feel her muscles fluttering around him, and her orgasm is utterly silent and still. Only her fingers twitch against the sheets, an anchor in a sea of bliss.

Varric fucks her through her orgasm, but his own release has been taunting him for close to an hour now. With one firm snap of his hips, Varric is growling low in his throat and burying himself deeply inside of Briane. He hadn’t put full thought into the fact that he was coming inside of her, but it felt right in the moment now. They are fused together literally and figuratively in this moment, and Varric knows that should worry him just a little bit.

But he can’t really bring himself to regret it.

It’s Briane who actually moves first, lazily lifting an arm and pushing gently at one of Varric’s hands against her hip. He takes the hint and carefully pulls out, his hands falling from her hips. Briane falls promptly onto her side with a long sigh, as if she hadn’t bothered to exhale before. As Varric settles down on his back next to her, he can’t help the huge grin the spreads on his face.

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” Varric asks, glancing over and enjoying the look of happy exasperation on her face. He’s not sure what he likes more, the fact that she’s fed up with him or that the blush on her cheeks is from more than just his usual antics.

Briane returns Varric’s grin with a slightly wolfish one of her own, her voice soft as she answers him, “You’re terrible, you know that?”

Varric laughs and shrugs, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “Are you trying to tell me that the sex was terrible?” He muses, offering up what he thinks is a rather genuine looking pout of disappointment, “Here I thought I was a generous lover.”

A giggling snort escapes the Inquisitor’s mouth and catches both of them off guard. Varric watches with amusement as Briane rolls onto her back and swings her arm over her face to cover her eyes in a rare moment of shame. “Alright,” she begins, “it’s the best sex I’ve had since I left my clan. Happy? Let’s just move on.”

“So you have had better sex,” Varric replies, the convincing power of his frown ruined by a smile that twitches at the corners of his lips. With a soft sigh of breath, Varric inches closer to Briane and drapes his arm across the her stomach, “Damn, now I really am offended.”

Briane hums softly and curls closer towards Varric, her arm falling back to her side. She turns her head and casts her blue eyes on him for a moment before she nestles her head against his shoulder, and Varric pretends that the entire movement wasn’t the most endearing thing he’d ever see.

“I can assure you that you are certainly one of the best lovers I’ve had,” Briane mumbles against skin, her body flush against his, “Is that better?”

“You’re just saying that,” Varric quips, a haze of exhaustion washing over him and causing his voice to rumble deeply in his chest. He holds Briane close, enjoying the feeling of her thin frame against his, so different and still oddly familiar.

“Flattery for an old man,” Briane teases softly. She opens her eyes slightly and reaches up with one hand to ghost her fingers over Varric’s cheek, “A rather charming and sexually adept old man.”

Varric chuckles deeply, but he’s too tired and pleasantly warm to really care much. Instead, he just nestles more deeply into the bed to settle into sleep. Briane’s hand pulls away from his face and the pair shifts so Briane can turn around in his embrace to press her back against his chest.

Long moments pass and nothing is said between them, they just settle into a pattern of steady breathing and both drift off to sleep. But in the moments before sleep overtakes him, Varric thinks of another dwarf in his arms and how they’d spend nights like this before it all went to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr! https://i-effortlessly.tumblr.com
> 
> Yours till the dawn comes,  
> SerendipityDreamer


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